Prose The Sound of Birds by the Lake

In the hot summer, the sun is like fire. After a rain, the heat disappeared and I suddenly felt cool and comfortable, so I went on a bicycle tour of Baigui Lake.

After two hours of intense riding, we have arrived at the sand island on the south coast. Here, the trees are lush and green as far as the eye can see. The light rain and thick clouds have not yet completely cleared, and the entire lake is covered with a layer of mist like a gauze. In the distance there are rolling green hills, fields and cottages, and tall buildings.

Tied up a hammock near the water, leisurely and leisurely, amidst the lullaby of the waves gently kissing the lake shore, before you know it, you have fallen asleep, letting time flow slowly among the green mountains and green waters.

A gentle sound of birds awakened my shallow dream. But the sky was clear, the water and sky were the same color, and a lake was sparkling under the sunlight.

Listen attentively, and your ears are filled with the crisp sounds of birds. Chirp, chirp, that is the naughty little sparrow whispering, its cry gives people a kind and gentle feeling. The green leaves above the head were moving slightly, and I seemed to see its small and exquisite figure jumping over the branches.

Zhazha, Zhazha, that must be the magpie; cuckoo, cuckoo, that must be the cuckoo coming in time for the solar term.

Listen, in the jungle and on the water, pheasants and wild ducks are also playing happily, clucking, quacking, quacking, talking non-stop, commenting on what is right and wrong.

On the beach, several egrets stretched out their slender necks and wandered by the water, calm and relaxed. On the lake, several water birds were flying low, their beautiful figures reflected in the green lake water.

Not far away, a naughty water bird was playing alone on the water, sometimes immersed in the water, sometimes emerging from the water, making a sound similar to a small stone thrown into the water, stirring up the water. The cloud shadows stir up water flowers and ripples.

From time to time, a bird flew leisurely above my head, its silver-gray wings filled with fragments of sunlight. They sang to me again and again, their fragrant songs like clear sunshine with dew in it. Are you saying hello to me, or telling me that there are ripe fruits, quiet canyons, and misty rain in the distance?

In this inaccessible place, the singing of birds is so pure and clear, like a clear spring and a wisp of breeze, washing away my dusty soul in the world of mortals.

I lay in the hammock, looking at these delicate elves, listening to the sounds of nature, and spent two or three hours in this way, feeling the poetry, joy and beauty of life in my heart.